I swear to god this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

This is what I saw, god help me. This is the last thing I shall ever write... It started one week ago, in Dorm B.

A black shadow slipped through the slatted air vent, floating through the air like a smoky miasma.

I was watched it as the murky mist glided over the sleeping bodies of my fellow inmates chained to their gurneys. It drew close to me, over Ink, Sin and Kina. It stopped over Kina, then… It lowered into her.

She started having a fit and the asylum nurses had to run and subdue her before she broke out of the restrains. But it wasn’t her! I KNEW, I KNEW! No one believed me!

And now, she’s going through the asylum, and her eyes are all red and people are dying, gutted like animals in sick twisted attitudes, and this white light from them is soaking into her body.

The riots have started all around me, the others are r@ping and killing each other, biting away flesh and howling in delight. And decay, black decay from the once Kina’s fingers spreading along the walls driving them even more mad.

She’s coming, because she knows that I know. I know what she is now! KINA CALLED IT! SHE KNOWS! EVIL! EVIL!! I have to warn them!

She’s closer; she’s so close, I see the hate, she’s goi-

DIARY ENDS HERE. In a splash of blood.

Rules:
No immortal characters.
They got to be human, at least partway.
Can be psychic and stuff like that but not amazingly powerful.
Ghosts and stuff like that are allowed.

*RP START*

Aurora Opal stood in front of the old asylum with her classmates. It was a mass dare, to visit the ‘haunted asylum’ and stay for a week.
The group was neatly divided into the brazen ‘jocks’ that were there to prove how ‘tough and hard’ they were to everyone. The smart people, looking for all sorts of strange magnetic fields and whatnot. The Gothic types, pale with too much eyeliner on most, only there for the bogus spirit vibes, and the poppy, peppy girls, cheerleaders and the like. They were absolute cowards, shrieking at anything that moved and clinging to their footballer boyfriends, while complaining about the cold in their mini-skirts.

And the others, the nobodies. The all-sorts, like liquorice. Aurora was one of those, not too smart, not pretty and sl*tty, not strange enough.

She had long black hair, striking against her pale skin, in a loose braid that reached her waist and beautiful aquamarine green eyes, a rare and lighter shade of Jade then usual, her best features.
She wore pretty white jeans with silver studs and white leather boots. Her top was a collared shirt in a colour the same as her eyes with silver metallic detailing of Celtic knot work on the bre@st pocket and cuffs, the shirt cut to the slender curves of her body.

She bit her lip as one of her friends giggled next to her.
“Hey, you know what happened here? This huge riot just burst out, and when all the cops arrived, the place was actually filled with blood. When they opened the flood doors, there was a tidal wave of blood and broken bodies. That’s why the ground here is red. They say, one certain nights you can see the whole thing take place again. And at a window, you can see this girl with a journal writing in it, really panicky then sink struggling from view and blood spatter the bars. They found that girl clutching the diary, and you know what it was? Full of crap!” She laughed.

Nearby, a girl was sitting on the ground, her arms tightly around her knees and her wide-with-fright mud-brown eyes staring at the building. Her hair was the same color as her eyes, and her clothes were black jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt that had several tears in the sleeves and had black belts sewn onto it in a pell-mell fashion. Her skin was very pale, but that was due to her having spent most of her life out of the sun because she'd been dreadfully ill.

She stood up and took a few steps toward the building, swallowing nervously. Get away, Tori! Hurry up and get out of there! her inner voice screamed.

Tori looked at a window to the right, and her eyes widened even more:

In the window she was looking at, a young man was hanging by his own intestines from the windowsill. She fell backward onto her backside, and blinked as the image faded. That was creepy.

I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!

You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!

Tori stood back up, brushing off her backside, and she walked over to the girl and shoved her, hard. "Stop calling people freaks, you hear me?!"

I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!

You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!

I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!

You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!

Tori staggered backwards, one hand on her mouth; she spat some blood and part of a now-broken tooth out. "Let your little w***e fight her own battles."

I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!

You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!

"Oh, really? Well, seems that since you're punching a girl, you're all high and mighty, eh? You're probably a friggen wimp who hits girls to look tough." She rolled her sleeves back, glaring.

I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!

You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!